


Miraculously clean

by narumila



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ancient Mesopotamia, M/M, Miracles, Pre-Relationship, heavenly bearaucracy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 23:41:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21169808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narumila/pseuds/narumila
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale get dirty (not like that...) in ancient Mesopotamia and Aziraphale gets a first reprimand from above for frivolous miracles.





	Miraculously clean

**Author's Note:**

> A "Pip Pip Hooray", a "Wahoo" and a big "Thank you" dear El for all the hard work you put into the Con-Zine.

“Now that was truly unnecessary.” Aziraphale wiped the stinking mud out of his face as best as he could with his soiled cloak. “You don’t say.” The caustic remark emanated from a figure next to him. Crowley had been clad in his signature all black mere moments before. But as of this moment his clothes, just like the angel's, were soiled with a brown sludge consisting of manure and the local wet clay. The demon wiped experimentally at his stained chest. “I will never get that clean again." A short pause. "They probably won't have anything black here. Bit rustic for my taste anyway.” He shot a stern look at a small group of children on the other side of the street. Much to his dismay the kids were pointing at them and laughing. One of them had even fallen down seemingly unable to stop his laughter.  
The angel next to him sighed. “At least we have contributed to the good mood of someone. Let's see. There should be a well around here, somewhere.”  
As the two figures moved on muttering under their breath the village children looked on in equal parts bafflement and amusement. They knew of course that the herd of cows always ran along that path at this time of day and thus knew to stay away from the hooves and the usual clouds of dust. But the two strangers that had shown up out of the blue apparently did not know to keep their distance from a herd of cows. Especially during the rainy season.  


At the well Aziraphale tried halfheartedly to clean his formerly white cloak. Crowley’s black cloak was now wet but the water had improved his situation only so much. The shiny black had turned into an ashen grey brown tone. “Whose idea was it to come here?” the irritated demon demanded. Aziraphale sighed. “It’s the only village with a tavern for miles. And may I remind you? You were quite fond of the idea of a carafe of wine in the shade.” Aziraphale had stopped soaking his cloak. He wouldn’t get the stains out with water on its own.  
“I am still fond of the idea of wine and shade. But I am even more fond of dry and clean clothes right now.” Crowley had bent over trying to wash clumps of dirt out of his red curls. 

The demon looked like a drenched crow. The wet cloak clung to him as if it wanted to drown him. Aziraphale didn’t look any better. His wet clothes stuck to him and the angel was starting to feel uncomfortably cold. He looked around conspicuously. The kids had not followed them. They were probably spreading the word that two hapless strangers had arrived and given them a free slapstick show. If he was quick no one would see. He tapped Crowley on the shoulder. “Get out of the water.” “Excuse me? Do you think I enjoy drowning myself in this _liquid_?” the indignation was palpable in the demon’s voice. “No. And neither do I.” Aziraphale snapped his fingers with a mischievous smile. A millisecond later it looked as if the unfortunate incident had not happened at all. The angel was dressed in his usual white tunic and cloak. The demon was clad in shiny black without a hint of any specks of dirt on his billowing cloak. Even their hair was clean again and Crowley’s braid was in its usual place.  
The restored demon was taken aback. “I suppose a thank you is in order, Angel?” Aziraphale beamed at him. “Oh, don’t mention it. I mean,“ he halted for a moment before he continued, “it was my idea to come here so… But what about a carafe of wine? I think I’ve had enough water for one day.” 

***

A piece of papyrus appeared in front of the angel and slowly drifted downward. Aziraphale looked surprised on as it landed in front of him on the table. It turned itself around on its own accord so that the neat script was no longer upside down for the angelic being.

_ Aziraphale_  
Principality, Guardian of the Eastern Gate of Eden  


_ We have reports of unscheduled minor miracles over the last months that did not increase the human belief or elevated worthiness of believers. We would like to remind you to stay on plan and stick to scheduled and pre-approved miracles for the time being. _

_ Furthermore We strongly advise you to be more cautious and aware of your surroundings. A demonic force has been sensed close by. _

_ Michael  
Office of the Archangels, Subdivision Earthobservatory _

_ PS: Be more careful, getting you a new corporal form required an awful lot of paperwork on my part. Michael _  


_ PPS: By the way please do shorten your reports. I’m drowning in papyri. Michael _

“Anything of interest?”Crowley was lounging on the wooden chair in a manner that made one suspect gravity was merely optional for him. He was watching the angel across from him studying the note in his hand. Aziraphale’s brows drew ever closer as he read on. His eyes had lost their usual gleam of curiosity and kindness instead an expression of despondency washed over his face. The demon raised an eyebrow: “I assume it’s from upstairs?” 

“Yes.” The angel sighed.”I was told off not to perform miracles while demons are lingering nearby.”  
“Oh, really?”  
“Yes, and to stop performing miracles that are not pre-approved.” Aziraphale carefully folded up the message. One fold, two folds. His hands were working slowly and with preternatural care and neatness.  
“Doesn’t sound very nice.” The demon kept his face clear of any expression and his tone decidedly neutral.

“Well, I guess I might have overdone it a bit.” Aziraphale forced a small smile on his lips. “So, what are your plans? Anything interesting coming up?”  
Crowley decided not to comment on that obvious deflection. If the angel did not wish to share his concerns he wouldn’t press any further. 

“I’m supposed to tempt some guy next month in Gomorrah. Forgot the name, but you know the type, family man, firm believer.”  
“Not your usual crowd then?”  
“Well, tempting one of those wouldn’t be work would it?”  
“I guess not.”  
Aziraphale looked down on the neatly folded bit of papyrus in his hands. He put it back on the table intently staring at it as if he was waiting for something to happen.  
After a minute Crowley was starting to wonder if the angel was still mentally present or if above had somehow intervened. He cleared his throat and was about to get up, if some ethereal being found him sitting by the angel Aziraphale would be in real trouble. And he would probably find himself back in hell. The mere thought of having to go back there was enough to scare him away from the companionship of the angel. 

As he was about to turn away a hand caught the sleeve of his tunic. Aziraphale was looking questioningly at him. “Would you please get us another carafe of the wine, please? I’m afraid a miraculous refill would be a bad idea at this moment.”  
The demon was speechless for a second. Shouldn’t he just go before there would be real trouble? He had been present while an ANGEL had performed a miracle. Even worse he had been affected by a holy miracle. The angel had braided his hair for heav-, Sata-, sake with a miracle. He doubted that a sternly worded letter would be all that hell had to offer for such transgressions. On the other hand… He had no reason to hurry anywhere for the next two weeks. And he quite enjoyed the easy companionship with another supernatural being. He didn’t have to pretend around Aziraphale. And the angel did not seem to be too bothered by the letter. If he thought it was safe...  
“Yes, I’ll get us another round.” Crowley once more turned away from Aziraphale. Before he could get very far he heard the angel’s voice again. This time he sounded just like the normal, carefree Aziraphale again: “And some olives. And some cheese and bread would be nice.” Crowley smiled at the angel returning to their usual repartee. “And how dear Angel, am I supposed to carry all of that?” Aziraphale got up and joined Crowley on his way to the bar. “I’ll come with you.”  



End file.
